


Rick's Going-Away Party

by DiqazonQueen



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Assplosives, Crack, Multi, Weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 19:24:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15226179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiqazonQueen/pseuds/DiqazonQueen
Summary: Contains a ménage à trois, scantily clad men, a hallucinogenic substance, assplosives, and all kinds of other surprises. Please diqcuss this story in a creative writing class.





	Rick's Going-Away Party

“Rick’s Going-Away Party”  
By Emma S. (me) & Tasha H.

 

After a delightful night of taking multiple beatings on his already flat-as-a-pancake tushie from his sexy male nurse, Dr. Diq, Rick’s whole caboose was on fire like he had been using Daryl’s assplosives. But he wasn’t complaining, smiling whilst he was enjoying the threeway cuddle. He always gleed with much joy being in the company of the doctor and his goddess mistress Michonne.  
Getting his body beaten by his two favorite people always made for a marvelous night for Rick. It left him sore and achy, as though he had been defenestrated once again, but sometimes Michonne and Siddiq would rub Icy Hot on his concave booty and make it better. Some nights, everyone needed Icy Hot rubbed on their keisters.  
But it was only a matter of time before they were awoken from their dilly dilly bed.  
“Lollipop, lollipop, oh lolli-lolli-lolli-lolli-lollipop – pop!”  
Rick’s favorite tune, set as his alarm, was like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode in the house. BOOOM.  
“Call me master and kiss my feet!” Rick shouted as he shot out of the bed faster than he ever could pulling out. He was exuberant at the day ahead; it was his going-away party and he couldn’t wait to get the jolly day started. It had been yonks since they did something this magnificent.  
Siddiq, pulling his famous Diq face, hated the fact the cuddle session ended. Rick was like his big, bearded, sexy af teddy bear. But, he also couldn’t wait for the thrilling day to get started and to dress up for his daddy wearing just his stethoscope, some Simon-styled tightie whities, and crocs.  
Michonne hated the lollipop song and wanted to KO Rick in the head like S5 every time she heard it, but she knew it made her dad short-rocking, flip flop-grooving, lollipop-sucking, glasses-wearing man happy. Despite hating the song, she couldn’t wait to light this going-away party up; like getting hugh af on nail polish fumes, it was aesthetic of hers.

“Golly gosh, is that you’re wearing today?” Michonne turned to Siddiq as he got dressed.  
She was speechless at the doctor’s outfit (or lack thereof), like she was the time she saw Rick singing and dancing to Disco Bat. His outfit was so bloody jaw-dropping. People’s jaws would surely drop to the floor and bounce back up again yoyo-style, like in cartoons. His six-pack was on full display and the tightie whities really didn’t leave anything to the imagination.  
Michonne was worried that later she would have to use the jaws of life to get Siddiq out of the ultra-tight tightie-whities, though.  
“What?” said Siddiq, like in his other famous gif. “Do you think daddy will like it?”  
“Daddy will love it. He’ll also love what I’ve got to wear.” Michonne planned to make Rick drool with her outfit: a tight-fitted dress, showing off her curves, her big peachy butt and goddess-like physique.  
Rick indeed drooled after returning from his S5 style shower. He saw Michonne as perfection. She was his queen. After he saw Michonne and Dr. Diq’s outfits, he felt like the luckiest man alive. He grabbed both their butts and said, “My sexy babies, what would I do without you?”  
None of them realized Jesus that was sitting on the stairs looking at that painting again. He was wearing dad shorts and flip flops, and his hair was tied in a manbun. Siddiq was so startled he almost stained his tightie whities with brown.  
“Are your mum and dad dressed?” Jesus asked, but before Siddiq could answer, out came Rick and Michonne. Rick felt proud that he started a trend with the dad shorts and flip flops, but only the sexiest of the sexiest could pull it off. Jesus blushed and smiled as bright as Heaven above. He figured he could walk into the party with Rick and his lovers.

Michonne went ahead to set up the rest of the party for her king. Rick, Dr. Diq, and Jesus were in the bedroom. Rick already liked the way they looked, but he thought they needed two more things to make it perfect: glasses and lollipops. Rick always kept spares. For science.  
When they were ready, all three did a twirl in the mirror and off they went.

Rick, Siddiq, and Jesus all walked into party like a scene from The Hangover. They noticed the catwalk and couldn’t wait to show off their stellar figures.  
Jesus stepped up first, lighting up the catwalk like an angel descended from Heaven. Good thing everyone was wearing glasses, because otherwise they may have gone blind.  
Siddiq was up next, but Rick couldn’t resist slapping his doctor’s ass before Siddiq went down the catwalk. In return, Diq took his lollipop out and tapped it on Rick’s nose with a “hehe”. With his abs pulsing out of his body, he strutted down the catwalk like he was out to win the Miss America pageant.  
Rick, of course, was last and he couldn’t resist shouting, “Behold, Ricky Dicky Doo Dog Grimes!” before he did the worm up the catwalk. Although, with every motion he took, smoke blossomed out of his shorts, accompanied by small squeaking sounds. Rick’s arse was still sore from the night before.  
Daryl was looking on in confusion, wondering if his assplosives somehow made it into his bro’s derrière. His assplosives were the reason he was living in the cupboard under the stairs. He had only caused one toilet to explode and blow a hole in the floor and rain his even flow doodie all over Rick, Siddiq, and Michonne (they were hanging out downstairs, naked, of course), but Rick had decided it was best Daryl stay in the cupboard with a bucket for doo-doo, like Negan.  
Now I have some talent, he thought to himself.

~

The residents of Alexandria, Hilltop, and the Kingdom were all determined to make Rick’s going-away party as joyous as possible, even though it was sad for everyone involved that they were heading for a life without Rick.  
This wasn’t the case for Negan as he sat in his cell, absentmindedly scratching his Moses beard. He had found out that Rick and his family were leaving Alexandria to start a new life from eavesdropping on whispered conversations outside his cell. He knew that his days of wreaking havoc on the lives of Rick and his friends were over, but he found it awfully rude that no one bothered to invite him to the great going-away bash.  
He continued pondering his situation as he sat on his bucket, having a doo-doo.  
“I know what you want, Negan.”  
A disembodied voice was speaking directly into Negan’s ear.  
“And I know just how to help you.”  
He turned his head, but there was no indication of where the voice was coming from or who the speaker was. The voice was vaguely familiar to him, though. He could only stare in confusion as a carefully-wrapped present materialized right at his feet. He reached down, undid the ribbons and removed the wrapping paper, which he then used to wipe his heinie, before he opened the box and looked inside.  
It contained a black cocktail dress, fishnet stockings, a blonde wig, a fashionable fur stole, red lipstick, a girdle, high heels, and even a pearl necklace.  
Negan had no clue who would give him such a gift, but he was strangely into the idea of wearing drag to Rick’s party.

Jerry had been assigned with the task of watching Judith, Gracie, and Hershel Jr. during the party. He was sitting in the bouncy castle, donning full Jerry Garcia cosplay since everyone had decided to embrace their inner party animal, clown, stoner, or whatever for the occasion. Jerry planned to reattach the two-thirds of a finger he had amputated for his costume (it was on ice in a Kingdom freezer) and put the kids down for a nap by the time they rolled the cake out.  
Jerry peered out the bouncy house’s window. Siddiq was walking around wearing only crocs, tighty-whities, and a stethoscope around his neck in case the party got so wild that people needed their heart rates checked. He waved at Jerry. Jerry waved back, waggling his stumpy finger at Siddiq.  
Siddiq made a mental note to find Jerry a finger condom.  
Gracie then threw a Barbie doll at Judith. It didn’t hit Judith, but the toddler was so pissed about something that she had lobbed the toy with the strength of the Incredible Hulk and it pierced through the wall of the bouncy house. It hit Siddiq in the crotch.  
The Barbie doll promptly exploded.  
By now, all the kids were crying so Jerry scooped them all up in his arms and started bouncing. Their tears turned to giggles as Jerry bounced them as high as he could.  
The bouncing was so impressive that they shot through the roof of the bouncy house.  
“Jerry Garcia lives, bro,” some stoner said to his friend as they watched Jerry drift through the clouds like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade balloon.  
Luckily for Jerry, he returned to earth and had the kids napping before cake time.

After everyone had cleared out of the house to go to the party, Negan picked the lock on his cell with a bobby pin from his wig and went upstairs, looking for a room with a big mirror in it. He walked into what he assumed was Rick and Michonne’s room. The floor was littered with dad shorts, flip flops and crocs in two different sizes, a thong that was probably Michonne’s but could have been anyone’s, a book on sex positions open on a chapter about threesomes, a rubber chicken, and many, many lollipop sticks. The headboard of the bed was smashed, there were holes in the floor covered by the carpet – Negan recalled seeing holes in the ceiling when he was downstairs – and multiple human head-sized holes in the wall.  
Negan didn’t care what had happened in the bedroom before everyone left, presumably in a hurry. He was here to admire himself in drag. He stood in front of the mirror above the wardrobe, not caring that the girdle was chafing his ding-a-ling. He had failed putting on his lipstick, leaving him looking like Heath Ledger’s Joker, and his beard was as bushy as ever, but Negan thought he made the sexiest Betty in the zombie apocalypse. Tim Curry was shaking in his boots.  
“Damn.” He kissed his reflection. “I’d fuck me.”

While Negan was admiring his reflection in the mirror, he noticed that the bedside table had a drawer that was slightly open. He considered refraining from snooping so Rick and Michonne wouldn’t know he had been there when they returned, but Negan reminded himself that he was still a supervillain and yanked the drawer open.  
Several pill bottles containing multicolored capsules were revealed to him. Yolo, Negan thought as he grabbed a bottle and twisted the childproof cap off, shaking two (it was actually a little more than two) pills into his palm before popping them into his mouth and dry-swallowing them.  
The acid trip started almost immediately.  
“WOOOOAAAAAAHHHH!!”

~

Heath had been roughing it for nearly two years now. He had encountered many different obstacles and often wondered how he could go on during these trying times all by himself. His RV was the only thing he could count on. He was sitting on one of the stained and holey seats, pondering what to do next, when a ball of light came into his field of vision. He thought he was tripping at first, but a figure emerged from the light.  
The man was not familiar to Heath, but once he reached his hand out, the former Alexandrian knew he could trust him with his life.  
“I know how to get you back to your people,” Moralegend told him. He held a Harlequin clown suit out to Heath. Heath dropped trou and dressed himself in the costume without hesitation.

Negan had busted out of his cell and made it to the party just in time. The talent show was just getting started.  
Rick, being the leader, never had time to get to know everyone’s weird and wonderful talents. He was jazzed up with excitement, and, without realizing the implications, he said, “Yippee-ki-yay! Time to bless me like I get blessed with Diq and Michonne at night!”  
Only Rick, Michonne, and Siddiq – and Daryl, since he lived in the cupboard under the stairs and the three of them weren’t exactly quiet – knew what they got up to at night. The secret they shared wasn’t exactly a secret anymore, though. Everyone turned to look at Rick like they did on the stairs when they realized Rick and Michonne had gone canon in 6x11.  
“What the shit?” said Negan, but he remembered coming upon the sex position book and all the evidence of a threesome. He couldn’t help but get a little turned on as he pictured them naked in bed together like a Neapolitan ice cream bar. People really were a resource.  
“Howay, dilly dilly, on with the dilly dally doo da show,” Rick said. He didn’t care; he was proud of it. It made him feel like a king.  
All the kids were up from their naps, but Judith was too busy planning on cutting Gracie’s hair for revenge over throwing that Barbie doll at her to pay attention to what her dad just said. After all, she had learned a lot from Rick and Carl and had was now able to form sentences.  
“Let us judge it, pretty please? With strawberries and whip cream and a cherry on top?” Judith pleaded at her dad.  
Rick always liked making his baby girl happy, so he obliged.  
“Of course, sweetheart.”

Uncle Daryl was first up for the talent show. He had been practicing his talent in the cupboard under the stairs. It was a small space, but with just enough room for him to smoke it up with his bare flame-grilled ass. It gave him something to do late at night, so he wasn’t constantly stuck listening to the moaning, thumping, and cracking of woodwork from upstairs, punctuated by the occasional “ow!” when someone’s head got shoved into a wall.  
“You’re gonna love this,” Daryl said as he squatted down on the floor. He vigorously strained until smoke started gushing out of his rectum. The audience should have been wearing gas masks. A flame sparked up like a sparker on Fourth of July and before anyone could grasp what the hell was going on, Daryl shot up in the air like a rocket! His assplosives were alive and acting like a jetpack, causing him to float above Alexandria. He strained a bit too hard and started going berserk in the air like a balloon that had been overinflated and couldn’t be tied so it was just let go and allowed to fly around the room instead.  
Once again, Negan said, “What the shit?” but Rick didn’t even realize it was him since he had lost count of the residents of Alexandria. He paid no attention to the bearded crackhead drag queen who was looking more drugged out than Lou Reed and Iggy Pop. Being as they lived in a world of reanimated corpses, Rick had seen his fair share of bizarre-looking people, dead and alive, and nothing could shock him anymore.  
Daryl’s arse had a mind of its own, making him flip around in the air like a stunt plane. After a good few minutes, his ass finally needed refueling and he came back down to Earth, landing as elegantly as he could.  
“Tada, that was my magic derrière,” he said, and took a bow, although really he couldn’t wait to start grunting like a tennis player to help ease the pain in his behind.  
Rick, sucking a lollipop, shot up and went, “That’s my boy!” Everyone clapped, including the three kids; they loved rockets and were now contemplating using Daryl as their own personal play rocket, because Daryl never had anything better to do.  
Jerry was up next and he told his King Zeke to start the timer. Before it hit a minute, he had already gobbled down six cobblers! All that bouncing with the kids made him hungry, like when you need to eat a Snickers.  
Everyone was amazed and gave him a round of applause. Ezekiel shouted, “Jerry, that’s my Jerry!”; Jerry was superhuman.

Up next was Jadis. She had practiced her talent with random metal parts at her trash house. She had learned a lot of different noises and asked Father G to drop a beat.  
Everyone was thinking, oh yay, she’s gonna be rapping, only for her to start shaking her face like she was overdosing on Diqazon and was about to have a fit.  
Then, out came the horse noises.  
“Well, punch me in the diq and call me Betty,” Negan said. He was getting a little aroused at Jadis. He always knew she was weird, but he liked it. Jadis wasn’t done yet, though.  
“Old McDonald had a farm, eieio!” she sang before she did duck and sheep noises, hoping it would win the kids over, but they weren’t having any of it. Even though they were kids living in a fucked-up world, they preferred the fucked-up stuff instead.  
Judith whispered in Gracie and Hershel Jr.’s ears and after the count of three, they all shouted, “GA BOO GA BUUUUULLLLLSHIT!”, ala Simon, and started throwing their toys at Jadis.  
Gracie and Hershel didn’t particularly like Jadis after Judith gossiped to them about the trash queen putting her dad through all kinds of shit. Daryl and Jerry were both subject to favoritism since Daryl was Judith’s uncle and Jerry was like a big teddy bear.  
Jadis really didn’t stand a chance.

~

Shortly after, an extravagant cake was rolled out and presented to the guests. Negan had made an emergency trip – still hugh af – to an abandoned Party City, where he picked up a piñata. He filled the piñata with most of the Diqazon pills he found in Rick’s drawer, putting aside a personal stash for himself that he stuffed in his big-ass beard. Negan hurried back to the party and attached the Diqazon piñata to a tree while everyone was distracted by the ginormous cake. It was big enough to fit an adult man inside.  
Daryl was about to perform his signature party trick once again for his family. Everyone’s eyes were on him as he lowered his trousers and pointed his bare keister straight at the cake. Flames came shooting out from between his cheeks as though his heinie hole was the mouth of a fire-breathing dragon, lighting all the candles on the cake.  
Suddenly, someone’s head popped out of the top tier of the cake!  
“What the fuck!?” Rick exclaimed as Simon leapt out of the confection, his very toned, naked body covered with clumps of cake and streaks of frosting.  
“SIMON!!!!!” Negan yelled, Alvin and the Chipmunks style, even though Simon wasn’t named Alvin. The naked frosting king and the RuPaul reject rushed toward each other, Diqazon pills falling out of Negan’s beard and his skirt fluttering in the breeze.  
“Piñata!” Jerry cried, paying no attention to the two Saviors in questionable states of dress who were embracing each other. Your friendship can survive even after you choke your pal to death, ya know.  
Jerry started beating the piñata with Lucille, sending pills raining to the ground. Siddiq reached down and picked up a Diqazon capsule that had fallen out of Negan’s beard and into the grass.  
“Fucker stole my pills!”  
Simon turned around to see Rick’s half-naked, very pissed, and very sexy doctor/lover. Simon had taken some Diqazon himself and was hugh af. Siddiq was now speaking with a British accent and Simon didn’t know if it was the result of the doctor being on Diqazon or the fact that his undies were tighter than Robert Plant’s pants.  
“You’re the one who made the pills?” Simon gave him a look like in that gif of Wendy Williams. “You are wonderfully talented, young man.” The ghost good-naturedly slapped Siddiq’s tightie whitie-clad tushie.  
Rick and Michonne saw that, and they weren’t very happy. How dare Simon slap their hot doctor boyfriend’s ass? They weren’t afraid of no ghost, so they quickly popped some Diqazon – by now, all the other party guests had done the same so they would forget that this messier-than-Gimple’s-plotlines debacle of a party had occurred – and ran after Simon.

Heath made it to the party wearing his clown costume. When he saw what had become of the bash, he almost ran back to his RV, but no one seemed to realize or care that he was dressed as a clown, so he decided to stay.  
Simon giggled like a madman, which he was, twisting and turning in the air so Rick and Michonne lost sight of him before swooping over their heads. They were running through the Virginian backwoods, but to Rick, Michonne, and Simon, it looked like a David Lynch movie taking place in a Lisa Frank poster because of the hallucinogens and THC in their systems from the Diqazon they had consumed.  
A helicopter was flying overhead, but Rick thought the machine was a unicorn and the whirring of its blades the meowing of kittens.  
“Watch out for that tree!” warned Michonne as Rick ran head-first into a rainbow penis tree. She helped him to his feet and they resumed chasing Simon.  
“YEE YEE!” screeched the helicopter, sounding like Roger Daltrey at the end of Won’t Get Fooled Again, as it crashed to the ground and fell into a plot pit.  
Somewhere, Stevie Ray Vaughan facepalmed himself and made a killer guitar face.  
The helicopter crash caused the whole earth to explode like my co-author’s ovaries at seeing pictures of bearded, tattooed men with glasses, and eventually everything was burned to a crisp like Daryl lost control of his assfire.  
Rick’s alarm could be heard going “lollipop, lollipop, oh lolli-lolli-lolli-lolli-lollipop, pop” one last time before it too, exploded.

FIN.


End file.
